With Gentle Hands
by Muse10
Summary: A young mother finds help from the most unlikely of sources. Who knew the dwarf could deliver? One-shot.


Disclaimer: Don't own LOTR.

Summary: A young mother finds help from the most unlikely of sources. Who knew the dwarf could deliver?

This takes place right after the Battle of Pelanor Fields. I think this is my longest one-shot ever, but I didn't want to split it into chapters. It's also the first one I've written that is entirely from the perspective of an OC, but I promise I kept things pretty cannon.

I will **WARN** readers that this includes fairly detailed descriptions of birth, so if that bothers you, don't read it. I'm not a doctor/nurse, but I've done a great deal of research on the subject in college so the information is pretty accurate based on the modern midwifery model and common medieval practices. If you spot something out of place, let me know and site your source; I'm going for accuracy. Enjoy!

**Thanks to Gabrielle for pointing out a really unfortunate typo. It's been fixed.**

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><p><strong>With Gentle Hands<strong>

I was young at the time, by the reckoning of many, but the war had aged us all and I was far beyond the days of my childhood. I had been married a full year, and I had my own household, my own chickens to care for, even a horse on occasion. My husband, Dunhal, was a good man and he taught me to ride his big, brown gelding when he had time. Then again, we so rarely had time in those days.

I can barely recall a period in my childhood when we did not live under the shadow of that evil on our borders. My father was glad for my marriage, as I had three younger sisters. With Dunhal at least one of his daughters would be protected, would not have to rely on the provisions of an old man. He was older in mind than body, I think, for my mother died years ago when the black breath swept through the air of Gondor, killing those already weak in health. She was never strong, my mother, but always laughing. I miss her even now, and I think I missed her most that night.

There were so many tears, so many things that had been destroyed. Yet, cries of joy also rang through the city: the battle on the fields outside of Minas Tirith was finished, we had won. The shadow hung over us still, but it had taken a grievous injury and we breathed easier than we had in many years.

My joy quickly waned. Dunhal was a soldier, he had been in the fighting, and he did not return to me in the hours after the battle, while wives around me greeted their own husbands. As the sun sank ever lower I resolved, with a few of my neighbors, to go to the Houses of Healing in hopes that our mates were injured, or better yet helping the wounded. We did not consider the other option. Not yet.

I was about to leave when a sudden pain seared deep in my belly. I held the doorpost to our bedroom and waited for it to pass, as it often did. Dunhal and I had decided to have children despite the darkness, perhaps even _to _spite it, to show there could yet be life. My middle swelled with our first, and I was well aware that the child would soon be coming. Not yet. Not yet.

The feeling passed, and so I took my worn cloak from a hook by the front door and entered the stone streets. I was determined to reach the Houses, although at this point the babe had grown large enough to inhibit my movement. I had to pause as I came to the base of the first set of stairs, for the pains came over me again. Morwen, an elderly woman who lived nearby, came out from her door at the base of the steps and put a gentle, wrinkled hand on my back. "Come now, child, you should not be going anywhere with the babe so close at hand and all this trouble. Let me take you into my house, and we will send another for word on your husband."

I shook my head, more determined as the spell passed again. "I have to see him, no matter what state he is in. I need to know, I cannot wait helplessly anymore!"

I had expected her to give me more warnings, but her face changed and she nodded. I should have remembered that she had lost a husband, a son, two grandchildren, and many friends in this war. She lived alone now with her youngest grandson Haleth, a boy of seven years or so. She called for him now, and the boy came eagerly. Morwen had forced him to stay safely hidden during all of the excitement, and he was ready to perform any task if it meant he could get outside. "Haleth, take Mistress Gilmith wherever she wishes. Make sure she gets there safely, and stay with her if she needs you. Take her here again if she cannot find Master Dunhal."

"Yes ma'am," said the boy. He was a goodly child, sure to make a fine man when he grew. I prayed that he would live to see his maturity, for Morwen was also a goodly woman and did not deserve to lose all the family remaining to her. She felt like a member of my own family, for she had helped me many-a-time before when I first came to live with Dunhal in Minas Tirith. The city was all stone, with none of the wide fields that had surrounded our little house out beyond the fields of Pelanor. We were never rich; our farm was small and we all worked hard to till the land and care for the animals. I never had brothers, so my sisters and I are capable still of carrying the same load as any man.

Dunhal had been passing with a small group of soldiers, including the Lord Boromir on their way to bring a message to Lord Faramir in Ithilien. We offered them what shelter and food we had, since they were weary of the road and it was raining. They were kind, grateful, and fair. My sisters crowded around the steward's son, laughing at all he said, but my eyes were drawn to Dunhal, standing silently next to the fire. I caught him watching me, and he looked away. I am sure I saw him blush just as I did.

They left the next morn, with many a graceful compliment to my father on our beauty and generosity, promising to reward our aid on their return. We never forgot that night, but did not actually expect them to think of us, which is why we were shocked to find them on our doorstep once again some months later with coins for my father and herbs of Ithilien for our garden. I do not know if Dunhal and I ever would have spoken if not for the interference of Lord Boromir, for I discovered later that he was the one who encouraged Dunhal to speak with me. Speak we did, for hours and hours until all the others had gone to sleep save my father. After a few months of visiting us on his own, Dunhal asked my father if he could wed me and take me with him to live in the city.

I was terrified for my first days in Minas Tirith, for I had never been far from home and there were too many people. Morwen was the one to notice my distress, and she introduced me to the ways of the city folk while Dunhal did his work as a soldier. She became a second mother for me. Perhaps if I delivered a girl-babe she and Haleth would marry someday, and we would be a true family together.

But I digress. Haleth helped me to climb that first set of stairs and many after, patiently waiting with me when I grew distressed for breath or pain. As we continued to make our way toward the houses, I began believe that there was indeed something wrong. The pains were growing more constant, and as I had never had a child before I did not know what that meant. Perhaps on a different day someone would have marked our frequent stops, or seen the way I clutched at the stones to keep from falling; I would not have any think the people of Gondor to be unfeeling. Yet when I most needed aid, it was not my own people who gave it.

As we neared the fifth tier I could go no further, for of a sudden water rushed down my legs and I finally understood that the pain this time was what heralded the birth of the child. I near panicked. "Haleth! We must stop; I fear I need more help than you can give."

The boy turned wide, frightened brown eyes on me. "What can I do?"

"I know not! I am no healer, I am no mother yet!" I felt badly for yelling at him, but the fear was consuming me. Where was Dunhal? Why had he not come home? Should he not be present for this? _Oh! Let death not have taken him!_

By some miracle, we were near to an abandoned guard station that had not collapsed during the siege. Into the base of this house Haleth led me, for my own Dunhal had once worked here and let the boy stay with him when the day seemed peaceful enough. The guards slept here sometimes when their duty was long, so I was able to lie on a bed in the back room. There I stayed for a moment, unable to think through pain and fear. Haleth stayed at my side, looking about the room for some help. All that was left was a blanket, which he lay over me all the same. At this, I finally cleared my head enough to think of what needed to be done. I could not stop the babe now that it had decided to come, and I did not think I could endure it on my own. "Haleth, run and find some help. I care not from who, just return quickly!"

With a frightened little nod, Haleth scampered off and I was left on my own for many minutes. Later I would be told how Haleth ran through the streets, desperately trying to gain attention from someone, _anyone_. But he was so small and the people were engrossed in their own families and feelings. No one had time for a little boy or a silly girl in distress; no one even saw Haleth. That is, not until he had the luck to run straight into the one and only dwarf in Minas Tirith, who was only slightly taller than the boy. "What's this now, lad?" he said. "Have you gotten lost in all this mess?"

Haleth stared for a moment, never having seen a dwarf before. He was even more stunned when the tall figure standing next to the dwarf bent to their level and offered the boy a gentle smile. Both of them were still covered in the grime of battle, but the taller one was the most beautiful creature Haleth had ever seen. "Do not be afraid, little one. The dwarf may look frightful, but the truth is that he has the heart of a cub." The dwarf had opened his mouth to protest, but a look from the elf stopped him. "My name is Legolas," said the fair one, "and this is Gimli. What is yours?"

"H-Haleth," the boy managed to stutter.

"Well then, Haleth, shall we be lost together? We have not been in this city long, and I am afraid we have taken a wrong turn. We are meant to be at the Houses of Healing; perhaps you are as well?" said Legolas.

Haleth's eyes widened as he remembered his mission, "Oh, yes! I am supposed to take Mistress Gilmith to the Houses to look for her husband, but she got the baby-sick real bad on the way and sent me to find help! Please, please help us; no one else will listen to me!"

Legolas and Gimli looked at one another. "Well, lad?" said the dwarf. "A mother is in distress, or so I gather, and at the least we can look in after her."

Legolas grinned. "What did I say? The heart of a cub, or perhaps a mother bear!" He looked back at Haleth while Gimli grumbled. "Show us where the lady is, pen-eth, and we will do what we can."

Immediately Haleth began to run back through the crowd, looking back every moment or so to make sure that his new companions were following. When they came to the guard building, Haleth was still several steps ahead and began chattering excitedly. "I found help! They look funny but they seem nice enough, and if they aren't I promise I'll protect you because I promised Grandmother I would!"

I blinked as he paused to catch a breath. There was a light knock on the door and I turned my head to see two strange men in the doorway. One was very tall, and the other very short. While I had never seen either creature before, Dunhal had told me of such beings and I had heard of their appearance during the battle. They were fearsome to my eyes, but their expressions were gentle and even the dwarf exuded a strange feeling of comfort. "Enter," I called.

The two came over to the bed, the dwarf's heavy metal shoes clinking across the floor. I sat as much as I could against the wall, for the bed was very low to the ground and I did not want to have to stare up at them. The elf smiled gently, "Good eve, lady of Gondor. I am Legolas, an elf of Mirkwood, and this is my dear friend Gimli, a dwarf of Erebor. What might we call you?"

"Gilmith, my lords," I answered, "wife of Dunhal, a soldier of Gondor. I…I know not where he is. I hoped to find him in the Houses, but the babe…ai!" My body contracted, as if the babe protested against being blamed.

When I looked up again, the elf and dwarf stood by my bedside. "It seems your babe has decided to join the world now that some of this darkness has passed," said Gimli with a wry smile.

"I would very much have appreciated if it had waited a bit longer," I grumbled. I instantly regretted my words, and made to apologize, but the dwarf laughed heartily, and it brought some warmth into my heart.

"I would wager so!" he agreed. "Now then, what say we send brave young Haleth back in search of a midwife, or perhaps another lady who might be able to assist you? I have been told that is the preference of human women when birthing."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "What opportunity did you have to discuss human birthing? You and Aragorn must have had the most interesting conversations while I was scouting."

"Not with Aragorn, with Lady Eowyn!" exclaimed Gimli, turning red above his beard. "Oh bother, I am not about to explain it to you now!"

I could not help but smile at the strange friendship the two seemed to share. Then I tried to think of who I might send for, when every healer would be busy with the soldiers. Surely even the midwives were at work, and I had no wish to take them from those who were in far greater distress than I. I wished desperately to be back in my father's house, where I would have the gentle care of my sisters and my father's bolstering presence. But here, in this world of stone and strangers, who could I call to my side? "Haleth," I said at last, "go to your grandmother, and see if she is able to come here. Put her at no undue risk, mind you, but if she is steady enough today, ask her to come." Ah! If only I had stayed in that kind woman's house to begin with.

Haleth nodded and ran out once more, leaving me with the elf and the dwarf. Another spasm took my body, and I leaned against the wall, pressing my face into the cold stone. A smooth hand took my own, calloused only about the first two fingers, and I opened my eyes in surprise. "Squeeze as hard as you wish, if it will help. You will not hurt me," said the elf with a smile. I assured him I would, when the pain returned, and marveled at the ageless hand. I promised myself I would not really squeeze too hard – I could not imagine bringing damage to what seemed like such a delicate creature!

Gimli cleared his throat. "If you will permit me, Mistress Gilmith, I will try to take care of you until your lady arrives."`

I would have declared my own surprise if Legolas had not first exclaimed, "You?"

"Why yes, me!" Gimli replied, puffing out his chest. "Unless you know how matters proceed from here, Master Elf? Have you much experience in birthing, then?"

Here the pointed tips of Legolas' ears burned red. "With animals, yes. Not to say it is the same at all, my lady! I only mean…"

"Pah! No excuses, you are right to say it is different. Now, I will admit that I am no midwife, and I have not ever been witness to a human birthing, but I have been present for the birth of many a dwarf child. Children are so rare to us that each and every birth is celebrated by the entire community, and all who are friends or family attend to the mother. I have assisted my sister thrice now as she brought forth nephews, and I consider myself thus more knowledgeable on the subject than any squeamish, blushing, pointy-eared, princeling of an elf."

"You truly know about birthing, my lord?" I asked, astonished to discover such a difference in culture. Our men would never have been allowed to be present, except perhaps for a husband. Scared as I was, I had begged Dunhal to be there with me; now it seemed he would never have the chance.

"Like every self-respecting dwarf!" Gimli replied gruffly. His tone softened when he said, "Of course, I understand that our cultures differ in this area, and it would be a most egregious offence on my part to ask anything out of turn." He bowed low.

I bit my lip. How could I trust him with this? He was not only a stranger, but a male, and of an entirely different race! It was sure to be most embarrassing, I could never let a man other than Dunhal know, or…or if Morwen could not come, see…! Alas, what choice did I have? Another contraction seized me, through which I gently squeezed the elf's hand. If it had been the elf offering such a service, I think, I would not have been so hesitant. To my eyes his face was gentler, and if I let his countenance blur I might imagine he was not, well, a _he_. The dwarf, however, could be nothing but a man, and I have often wondered what the dwarven females must look like!

"If…if you think it is best, Lord Gimli, I would gladly accept your aid."

For an hour or more (for it certainly felt longer) I spoke with elf and dwarf. Gimli encouraged me to walk about the room, leaning on sturdy Legolas for support and squeezing his hand whenever I suffered. Meanwhile the dwarf found us clean water, and started a fire in the pit. He shed his armor and washed himself of blood and dirt, revealing that he had suffered quite a few scrapes from the battle. I offered to mend them, but he only permitted Legolas to bandage what was still bleeding with a few strips of fabric the elf had in his quiver. He did not want anything to taint me.

As it had taken a young pregnant girl so long to climb the steps, I was not surprised it took an old woman even longer. Still, as Legolas held me against another contraction, there was a knock on the door. Gimli went to it with his ax in hand, prepared to fight to keep my dignity intact, but he soon was backing away and bowing low as Haleth guided Morwen into the room. She was caught in awe of elf and dwarf for only a few moments before she hurried to my side.

"Dear child! Are you well?"

"It is the babe," I replied when I could. "It is coming!"

Morwen pursed her lips. "You are early. But with all that has happened, I am not surprised. The babe is not in distress, is it?"

I grasped helplessly at my belly, unsure how to tell one way or the other. Gimli came to my rescue. "She seems to be healthy and progressing normally, my lady."

Morwen raised a critical eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Beggin' your pardon, Master Dwarf, but what know you of such maters?"

"More than most, it seems." He smiled, and explained his culture to the old lady. She shook her head in amazement, but being a practical woman went about helping to prepare things.

Gimli cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Em, it didn't seem right, what with me and the elf being the only folks about, but we had best…er…see how things are getting along?"

Hours before I would have blushed furiously at the mention of such an examination, but as the labor progressed I stopped caring so much who was doing the seeing or the helping, so long as the babe did not stay in for much longer! "Of course!" said Morwen. She pointed to the set chairs in one corner. "Bring me one of those, and if you can find a low stool anywhere it would be much appreciated."

"Should I lie down?" I asked, blushing.

"Oh no, my dear, you sit in the chair. You don't want to be flat on your back; everything falls faster when it faces the ground, and the same is true of children. That is what the midwives say, anyway, and I have been to enough birthings to see their advice works well." She guided me to sit on the edge of the chair Gimli brought over and knelt before me. Gimli promised to look for a stool with Haleth, while Legolas still held my hand and looked only at my face. They were most kind, for I was embarrassed enough to know I had something of a mess under my skirts; I could not control the fluid that poured from my body. Perhaps it was best that Dunhal was not present.

"You've a long way to go yet, Gilmith, but you are doing very well so far," Morwen declared.

A long way? I could have screamed. I never imagined it would take so much time, I felt ready for the child to come right then! But I only nodded and drew deep, even breaths, as the women in the Houses of Healing had shown me.

Hours passed. Night fell in full, and we sent Haleth to find more candles, more wood for the fire. Salves, as well, if he could get them, or even better – a real midwife. I labored on, and each contraction seemed to come sooner than the last. Morwen sat patiently on the stool Gimli had found for her somewhere outside. It had not been low enough, but he used his axe to cut the legs evenly. He and Legolas were so gentle with me. They helped me to move about the room, to wipe cool water over my face and lead me to feel the breeze by the door. Gimli and Morwen suggested various positions I could try to ease the pain; to lie on my side, to kneel with my head resting on a clean chair. Legolas only released my hand to rub my back, and somehow he knew exactly where to put pressure in order to ease my aches. I knew they had to be tired, had to be in pain themselves after a day of battle, but they made no complaints and refused to leave or take rest whenever I asked. Only Haleth slept in a corner, in between errands.

At last I began to feel the change; the contractions were long, and my legs would not hold me up anymore. I sat in the chair squeezing Legolas' hand with more strength than I was aware I had, with Morwen on her stool under my skirts, spreading the salve on my skin and gently stretching with her fingers to help prevent my flesh from tearing. Gimli felt my belly and nodded, apparently satisfied. "Your babe is in the right position now, lassie, but this is the hard part – or so I am told. Hold on now, just a bit longer."

I groaned, feeling the sweat pour down my face and back. I was so hot, but then again so cold, and my lower body felt like it would burst open from the pressure. I wanted to be sick, I wanted to scream, I wanted to hate everything about that moment. "Dunhal is dead, how can I have a child? Oh…oooowh…he's gone, oh Valar no, he would be here if he wasn't! Aye, we shall be destitute, and why did I ever _want _a child?" I did not realize I had spoken aloud.

Morwen wiped at my tears. "Hush, dear, it's alright. You shall stay with Haleth and I if the worst has happened, and you do not know yet that it has! You must have a thought for yourself and the babe now. Master Gimli, I shall need your aid. The midwives always crowd about and push us aside when it comes time to catch."

"That is a shame, madam, for it is a beautiful sight. If Gilmith does not mind, I will catch the babe."

He said all of this in that low, calm voice, and put a cool hand on my forehead with such gentleness that I agreed readily. I was still very frightened, but as the next contraction hit, stronger than the last, Legolas began to sing; first in elvish, and then in Westron so I could understand.

"A swollen woman

sat in a swollen road

a swollen child

she held in her lap;

swollen hands

and swollen feet,

swollen flesh

that will take this blow;

swollen wood

and swollen iron

that will give this blow.

The pain goes out

from bone to flesh,

from flesh to skin,

from skin to hair,

from hair to grass;

let Mother Earth receive the pain."*

He had such a pleasant voice, and the rhythm felt like a charm. I could breathe again, and the pressure, though insistent, was less painful. "Gilmith, push!" I pushed with the rhythm of my muscles and the melody of the song. It was not easy, and with each push I felt as if I was surely going to tear myself from the inside out. "Push, I can see the head!" announced the dwarf, and Morwen began to praise the Valar for such a wondrous sight. I took a breath, and pushed twice more.

And as the dawn rose, my beautiful, perfect child came swimming into the world with a wave of blood, and joy, and fluid, and life, all landing in the hands of Gimli the dwarf. I have never felt such euphoria, and the whole room erupted into a shared cry of happiness – myself, a boy, a grandmother, an elf, and a dwarf, all welcoming my babe.

"A girl," said Gimli with a wide grin as he placed her on my chest.

I cried and ran my fingers over her. Oh, she was so small, but she was perfect. "Hello little one," I whispered.

Legolas brought over a bowl of warm water to clear her with, so that we could clear out her airways and make sure she was healthy. Morwen helped me through the last stage of birthing, where with a few smaller contractions my body expelled the placenta. I barely took note, and though my body was sore and tired and I was a mess I did not care. I had a daughter, a healthy daughter in the midst of so much death, and that was a wonderful thing.

"The cord has stopped pulsing," observed Gimli. "Give the lady your knife, Legolas, if it is clean, so that the cord can be cut."

Legolas pulled a beautiful long knife from his quiver and offered the hilt to me, but I shook my head. "I would be too afraid to hurt her. Will you…?"

Legolas smiled and offered his knife instead to Gimli. "Master dwarf, you have proven yourself a most excellent midwife. The honor should be yours, if Gilmith approves."

"Oh yes!"

Blushing and mumbling, Gimli took up the knife and released my child to the world. Morwen placed the placenta in a bowl, promising to cook it for me later, as she knew just the right herbs to mix with it.** Legolas looked surprised, and Gimli laughed. "It's a tradition to eat that bit in my home as well, elf, and likely yours. It's good for the mother."

My daughter shifted her fists in my dress, wide eyes glancing about. Then she began to cry. "Good!" Morwen exclaimed. "I was wondering when your girl would use her voice. She must be hungry; let's get you cleaned up, and then you can rest on the bed and feed her."

"Master Gimli, would you hold her a moment?" I asked.

The dwarf held up his hands, still covered in fluid from the birth. "I had best wash up first. Perhaps Legolas will."

"Oh! I am sorry." For the first time in many hours I remembered to be embarrassed.

Gimli shook his head and took a cloth from one of the basins of warm water. "It is good to have blood on my hands that is from a birth, not a death."

"May I hold her for you?" asked Legolas. He held out those ageless, clever hands. I handed him my child, and I knew she would be safe. He held her close to his chest despite her wails, and began to rock her and hum. Though she was still distressed, she grew quiet and gazed upward with wide blue eyes.

Morwen helped me to wash and dress in a soft shift that Haleth had brought. Oh! The boy. I had almost forgotten Haleth, sitting so patiently to one side.

"May I do anything, madam?" he asked once I was on the bed.

"If you will wait a moment, you and I can seek out breakfast for us all while the little one eats her very first meal," said Legolas. He placed the babe on my chest, and kept humming quietly, his eyes averted, until she happily sucked at my breast. Then he and Haleth left.

I think I dosed some, for I do not remember much beyond the sensation of sleepy warmth and peace as my daughter nursed. "She is beautiful," Gimli said quietly. "What will you call her?"

"I do not know," I answered. "Dunhal…" I swallowed. "Dunhal and I wanted our child to have a name that mattered, that meant something to our family. We thought perhaps Boromir for a boy; you see, the steward's son was the one who brought us together. His name was Boromir, and he was always so good to Dunhal…"

"Oh." Gimli shifted awkwardly. "Yes, a good man and a good name. But for a girl?"

I smiled. "I was going to name her after my mother, but now I am not so sure. Her name was Nienor, which I am told means mourning. It is likely I will be mourning my husband; I do not wish to mourn my child, too. What do you think, Master Gimli? What is a strong name for a dwarvish girl?"

"Well now, we dwarves do not speak our true names to anyone at all. But, ah, under the circumstances, perhaps I can give you a word of Khazud," he replied.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose, if your language is secret!"

Gimli shook his head. "Today is special, and I quite like the idea of a human child with a dwarvish name. It is the world of men that will outlive us all, and I think it would be a shame if none of our beautiful language was left. What would you like her name to mean?"

I looked down at my daughter, now happily filled with my milk and staring back at me with those wide eyes. She was so beautiful, and she filled me with such joy and love. When I looked at her I believed there was a future; there had to be, for her sake. "Hope," I said, suddenly sure of myself. "Her name should be Hope."

Gimli stroked his beard. "Yes. Yes, I think that will suit her just fine. I shall give you the real word in Khazud for hope, but you must give her another name, as we dwarves take, that she will share. You cannot tell anyone who is not bound to you her true name. Or, I can give you one that is not real Khazud, but similar enough."

I considered this. It seemed strange to give my child a name she could not use, or one that was not from a true language. Perhaps I should give her an elvish name, as most in this city had. But if I were to do that, why not give my daughter a name of two worlds? After all, the elf Legolas had helped me to bring her into the world as well. "Give her a true dwarvish name, Gimli, and I will ask Legolas to give her an elvish one."

Gimli grinned. "Hah! A fine idea, my lady." He looked about the room, noting that no one else was about but dear Morwen, who slept in a chair. He went to the fireplace and dipped his thumb into the ashes, and then returned to hold it above my daughter. "May I?" At my nod, he drew the symbols of his language across her forehead. "Earth-child, by the will of Aule, I name you Tikvah, that you may bring Hope to us all."

"Tikvah," I repeated quietly. The babe waved her tiny fists, then settled into my arms and slept. I smiled at Gimli. "It is a good name."

He nodded, taking his clean thumb and wiping away the soot in three quick strokes. "She will hold it well. Now where is that pointy-eared, bird-brained, fool of an elf?"

"Did you call, Gimli?" said Legolas with a smile as he stepped inside with a basket. He and Haleth opened it for us, revealing some bread and fruit.

"We tried to find more, we really did," said Haleth.

I patted his head. "It is wonderful, thank you both. Ah, Master Legolas?"

"Yes?" he asked, pushing the largest portion of our meal towards me.

"I would have your aid in the naming of my child. Gimli has given his, and so I would like an elvish name for her to bear that she may share with others."

Legolas raised his eyebrows at the dwarf. "You offered the child a name in Khazud?"

"It is a special occasion, and I would have at least one family remember our language, when there are no dwarves left," he said gruffly, tearing off a bit of bread.

Legolas smiled. "It is special. My lady Gilmith, I would be honored to help you name your child; what do you wish for her to be?"

"Hope."

His smile grew wider. "Ah! I knew another child called Hope once, and do you know what became of him?"

"What?" I asked.

"He became the leader of his people, a beacon to lead them through the darkness." He brushed his fingers across my daughter's cheek. "He has since claimed the name given to him by his father, but I knew him as Estel, which means Hope. I think he would be glad to pass it on to such a miraculous child."

"Estel?" I whispered. My daughter cracked open her eyes and stared at me, then the elf. Content that all was well, she returned to sleep. "Estel she shall be then." _Tikvah Estel_, I added to myself, _Hope of Hope_.

Legolas leaned over and kissed the top of the babe's head. "Star-child, by the light of Elbereth, I name you Estel."

When I had rested for some hours, those good lords helped me and Morwen to make our way at last to the Houses of Healing. Haleth followed at Morwen's elbow, for he loved his grandmother dearly and was glad to be her aid. We were met at the very doors by two elven lords, so alike in their appearance I would have thought them to be the same if both were not present before my eyes. They were handsome and regal in bearing, though they looked exhausted beyond measure.

"There you are!" exclaimed one upon sighting Legolas and Gimli. "We have been searching for you; we thought you might be lost, for this city is rather confusing, is it not?"

"Aye it is, but we've not explored much of it. We have had fine hospitality this eve," said Gimli.

The twin lords, for twins they must have been, looked at him curiously, but Legolas spoke before they could ask any further questions. "What news have you?"

"We have been in the Houses of Healing. Aragorn has come into the city as a healer only, for he will not yet claim his full right as king." The elves kept their voices low, and cast furtive glances at me. I re-settled Tikvah Estel in my arms, pretending not to hear. Silently I wondered at their words; could it be the rumors were true, and a king finally had returned to Gondor?

"That is well," said Gimli. "What of our friends?"

The second twin answered this. "They are still weak, but they have been brought out of the darkness. The worst is passed."

"And you? Where have you two been all night?" said the first. "Elrohir believed you lost, but I know how easy it is for Legolas to get into trouble. You did not find some hiding orcs, did you?"

Legolas smiled and rested his hand upon my shoulder. "Nay, what we found was much, much better. My friends, this past night I have seen things that give me great hope for the future of this world, and raise my spirit from the hell of battle. There is indeed hope for men, if only you look into the eyes of a human child."

"Lady Gilmith needed our aid, there was no other who could come. She gave birth only four hours ago," Gimli explained, gesturing to the bundle I held tight against me. The babe shifted and yawned, freeing one little fist from her blanket.

"What?" The twins leaned in to take a closer look, and I was surprised that they had not noticed my daughter before.

"Aye, and Gimli helped to deliver the child!" said Legolas, a bright twinkle in his eyes.

"Is he well?" asked the one called Elrohir.

I bristled at this. "_She_, if you please sir. She is very well, thanks to the unparalleled kindness of these great lords."

Elrohir bowed his head. "Apologies. I am glad to hear your daughter is well; it is indeed a great miracle in these dark times!"

"But come," said his brother. "You must seek a true midwife, one who might better access your condition."

I shook my head and drew back a little, suddenly recovering myself. I must have been tired indeed, to speak so to elven lords! "Please, my lords, I do not seek care for myself. I had hoped to find a midwife who could check on my girl, but more than anything I want…I want to find my husband, so that he may meet his daughter, if only once."

Their eyebrows rose at this, but they nodded and joined our company as we traveled into the Houses. "My lady, I deem it only fair that you should know many soldiers died. I know that is poor comfort, but I believe it is unwise to raise your hopes only to have them dashed suddenly, and I fear that would harm your health," said Elrohir.

"Do not think us fools because we are common folk," said Morwen. I was not the only one who was surprised to hear her speak in such a manner. "We are women of Gondor, and we are accustomed to ill news, but we will not mourn our dead over-soon. I think you will find there is great strength in our people."

"Great strength indeed!" Gimli grinned. "Why, I believe if all the women of Gondor are like you, this city will withstand all that Mordor can throw at it!"

"It already has," I said quietly. "If my husband is dead, I would still have him be with his daughter, just once. I would have Estel say hello and goodbye to her father."

"Estel?"

I nodded. "It is her name."

The elves smiled. "I knew an Estel once. He grew up in our house as a ward of our father's, but he was more like a true brother than a fosterling to us. He has grown noble, wise, and strong, and ever he remains Hope to those who need him," said the first twin.

"Lord Legolas told us a similar story."

"And what may we call you, my lady?" asked Elrohir.

"Gilmith," I replied.

"Then, Lady Gilmith, Elladan and I are at your service, and that of your family," said Elrohir, bowing to Morwen and Haleth.

We had reached the inner halls, and the moaning of the soldiers in nearby rooms made my heart clench with fear. My tongue flew on ahead of my brain. "My lords, I beg of you just one favor. You said that you were in this place all night. Please tell me, was there a soldier called Dunhal?"

The twins looked at one another. "I am sorry," Elrohir answered, "but I treated no man by such name."

My heart constricted further, and I wondered if perhaps they were right that it was no good to hope at all. I clutched Tikvah Estel closer to my chest. "Wait," said Elladan. "Your name is Gilmith?"

"Aye, my lord."

"There was a soldier…his leg was broken, and there was an arrow in his side, but even as I set the bone and stitched the wound, he bore the pain by speaking of his beloved. He told me she was fairer than the city itself, gentle as a summer breeze, wise as the queens of old, and worth more than all the stars above. Each moment I asked him to endure another stroke of pain, for we did not have enough supplies to do more than dull it, he spoke her name, and so I remember it: Gilmith."

Hope sprung anew in my soul. He had called me such things before, though I knew I was not particularly fair or wise. "Was he tall? With dark hair, and eyes the color of earth?"

"Yes, my lady, and he bore a woven leather bracelet about his ankle, which he would not let me remove."

"My Dunhal! He is alive!" Tears fell freely from my eyes.

Morwen squeezed Haleth to her. "Praise the Valar! Oh, there is hope yet for this world when a father lives to see his child newly born!"

"Where, Elladan?" asked Legolas.

"This way!" he said, leading us through the building until we came to a large room. There were many beds within, some which were not really beds at all, and one healer who was trying to see to the needs of them all. She looked like she might kick us out until she caught sight of the twins, to whom she bowed low and welcomed within. I needed no further aid then, for I could see him.

Dunhal, my dear husband, lay propped up on a straw cot not far from the door. His eyes were closed and his forehead was scrunched tight, a look I had seen on him before when he was having dark dreams. The thin coverlet was drawn up to his chest, but beneath it I could see how stiffly his left leg was held. It near broke my heart to see him so hurt, but so wonderfully alive.

I knelt by his side and adjusted Tikvah so that I could hold her in one arm. With the other I reached out and brushed a stray lock of his dark hair away from his face. He was warm, but not overly so. I cupped my hand about his cheek. "Dunhal. Dunhal, my love, it is Gilmith. Will you wake for me? For us?"

He groaned, and a hand came up to hold mine as his eyes opened. "Gilmith," he whispered.

I cried. "Oh, blessed Valar, you're alive!"

He smiled, and I think he cried, too. "Yes, and so are you. Oh my star, I have never seen anything so wonderful as the sight of you at this moment."

"I can think of one," I replied.

"Oh?"

"Yes, and she is here, too." I took my hand away so that I could hold our daughter before him.

His eyes widened, and I was sure he cried then. "Is that…?"

"It is our daughter, Dunhal. Estel, say hello to your father."

He caressed her face with gentle fingers. "Estel. Hello, my heart." She stared at him, making a little noise and drooling over my fingers. Dunhal laughed. "She's perfect. But Gilmith, what happened? How, when did this come about?"

"A miracle. Oh! You must meet…" But when I looked up to introduce my husband to my saviors, none remained but Morwen and Haleth.

I did not see them again, save from far away. I watched them ride to war as I settled Dunhal to heal in our own home, once the structure was deemed safe. I watched them return with joy in my heart, and when the king was crowned I watched with Dunhal at my side and Estel laughing in my arms. I did not mind if they forgot about us, for I would remember forever who had given our daughter her names.

Tikvah Estel brought hope to our little family, and I like to believe that she had a hand in bringing hope to the rest of the world.

…

"Legolas," said Gimli as the galloped into the land of Gondor, "I have thought of another thing we must do before we separate once more and settle in these lands."

"What is that, my friend?" asked the elf.

"Do you remember the child we helped to deliver that night after the Battle of Pelanor Fields?"

"Aye, of course. 'Twas we who named her, and she who encouraged me once more to risk everything I had for the world of men to come."

"I should like to visit her, if it is possible. I would hate to think anything went poorly for that blessed little family once we left them, though one of the captains promised me the father made a full recovery."

Legolas smiled. "I think that is a fine idea. I always felt badly that we did not say goodbye, but things happened so quickly in those days. Do you think they will remember us?"

* * *

><p>Tikvah means hope in Hebrew, and Tolkien based Khazud partially on Hebrew.<p>

*From "Tomida Feminina" ("A Swollen Woman"). You can find it + more info here: .com/2010/05/05/medieval-midwives/

**Strange as it sounds, this was a common medieval practice, and there are many respectable sources who believe that eating the placenta is perfectly healthy.


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